#hearing someone likes my writing and prose is really sweet thank you so much i never get compliments on my writing so it like

[abimee]

For what it's worth, I've been following you for a few years and I do think your skills as an artist have grown. You've seem to get more confident in the way you build the human body and face, your coloring has gotten more complex, and in general I feel like I've watched you settle more and more into a defined and unique art style.

I know it can be frustrating to not see the growth or changes you want but it does break my heart to see you be so harsh on yourself. I think you're genuinely extremely skilled and I always looked up to you as an artist, even when I was going through art school myself. I feel like you have a way of capturing people that's just so emotional and lovely and I want to see more of it in my own art, though I've been struggling to capture the same vibes too...

It's also never too late to pick up or try out something new, to find new skills or return to old ones. I loved the fics you posted, your prose is wonderful, and the way you speak about your characters is so thoughtful. It does hurt to feel like you've lost out on the time to do something, but please don't give up completely. I think you have a lot of genuine skill and talent and it'd be lovely to see you take it in any direction. Regardless of where the future takes you, I hope you have a nice day.

THANK YOU.... THAT MEANS A LOT TO ME TO HEAR.....

ive been like, trying to mull it over in my head because sometimes what i think is one way might sometimes morph into another and idk i dont think its its a dislike for my own art but like a sort of external critic ive decided to consume thats trying to sway me one way. i hate to be like ''the support i got on my art when i was younger was sort of really bad for me'' but maybe the years of being pushed To be an artist by adults and people around me saying they like my art only when its X or Y thing has like made me prey to feeling like im drawing not for myself. like i failed the expectations put on me and i dont have the chance to ''re-do''

maybe i just need to like reconsider what i like drawing or try smthn new that isnt like. hinged on this idea in my head that i need to keep peoples attention or what support i have because like. thats another fear is always like ''what if all these people who say they like my art one day just stop and im left alone'' but thats a different plate of cookies for a different glass of milk. i think i just need to figure out what I personally want out of my art and stop hinging everything on years-old circumstances

but then at the same time i dont really have any idea what i would want to do differently, i really like what i draw now but idk maybe theres something else for me in some way. i think im worried of just alienating people so used to one thing from me that changing that will just feel wrong. not really in like art style or anything but just like What i draw. i feel like ive always kept to the same concepts and ideas and imagrey that changing it will be strange or worse. but maybe i do just have to make that chance and not be so scared 😞

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Fuckass Bob here, straight stunting and offering the requested writing review 💅🏻 (Full disclosure I don’t read anything that doesn’t have a happy ending, I don’t read series til they’re done, I’m an Aemond whore first and foremost.)

Anywho. I really like your writing and one of the things I like so much about it is that you can take really similar asks and give a wide range of returns for them. You’ve got a bunch of asks for BJs or butt stuff or praise kinks or brat taming etc and each piece you write feels different, even though the characters are (usually) the same and the premise is so similar. It really scratches the “I loved this, now I want to rewatch it with the camera angle 15° off” vibe that I often get with fanfic. I love my tropes and characters and stories about them and I’ll finish one and throw it on the ground and scream ANOTHER (read: reblog and like it and scream ANOTHER) and when I read your stuff the similar prompts scratch the same itch but I don’t feel like I’m just rereading the og fic.

Idk man whenever I see your request/WIP list I get super excited about how you’ll do the Aemond stuff and then when I get to sit down and read it I’m always blown away.

Also, as someone who does love her bazillion word fics, I like the length of your prompt responses. They’re perfectly bite sized I can sit down and read and it doesn’t feel daunting or like I’ve opened my tumblr for nothing. The length is perfect: dick length joke and whatnot

-FAB

This is very sweet of you, thank you so much!

I am trying to move away from the shorter length fics, and people who closely follow my work will likely see the shift in terms of word count. I am generally quite satisfied with the trajectory my writing has taken, but have never asked for feedback before, so I am interested in hearing people's honest opinions of what they like and don't care so much for in my prose!

The drabbles and smut requests were produced during some of my unhappiest times in fandom. With people that were churning out four or five fics a day and maintaining an incredibly solid chokehold on all of the tags, it felt really pressurised and like if I didn't keep up then my work would be forgotten. It was horrible.

That pressure has eased immensely in the last few months, and I have reached a space where I am (most of the time) relatively unbothered by what others are doing around me. It's been so nice to adopt a more relaxed approach and take my time with my writing, so that I'm producing stories that I would genuinely be happy to read myself.

Sorry for the ramble!

[crowtrobotx]

OMG YOU REMINDED ME i’ve been meaning to cry into your asks about how good chrysalis is. it’s been bouncing around my brain for weeks now. like you perfectly capture the side of karl that i’m most infatuated with— which is just how he cares for people even if he’s stubborn and ruthless and yk. just karl heisenberg. ITS SO SWEET. but you also never lose the grit of his character.

AND THEN KRIS AND LOTTIE TEAR ME APART they’re sooooo fucking well written they’re so fleshed out they’re so. real. you balance your beautiful descriptions with clever and heartfelt dialogue so perfectly. like i can’t wait for every next word i read i get so excited about it.

i got too caught up in how obsessed i am with your writing i forgot i had like. an actual question— what was your inspiration for writing the fic? bc your overall theme of how science can create both terrible and beautiful things is really interesting and i love it. and i really enjoy how your characters embody this.

me personally, my inspiration for my fic came from seeing how different ethan and heis were and how their deal would’ve never worked out. bc karl simply doesn’t understand what it’s like to love someone— he’s never had someone to care about (as far as we see in the game). so ethan’s bleeding heart goes completely over his head. so i was wondering what would happen if heis DID understand ethan. what if he DID have someone to care about.

and i was wondering if you thought the same? (don’t spoil anything if you don’t want to) but will that motivate his actions in a different way when it comes to the events of the game?

anyway ily and your stuff mwah ❤️

🥺

PLEASE oh my goodness thank you so much for the kind words. You have no idea how much they mean to me! I am trying to be better about being dismissive of any compliments because I still genuinely feel baffled that people who are not me are enjoying this so much but I am so so so so glad for it all the same.

I’m honestly very happy to hear you say that you think I don’t “lose the grit” of his character because that’s something I’ve honestly struggled with trying to balance! I mean, that’s kinda crazy to say, because this is a dude who was on screen for like ten minutes lol but I feel pretty strongly with the way he swings wildly between homicidal rage and moments of stark vulnerability, there’s something resembling a person capable of love and care under there. We never got a backstory for him and I think most of us are on the “he was taken as a child, not an adult” train, so I’m always trying to depict a battle between a kid who was robbed of any opportunity for a “normal” life, the adult who came from that and has been warped into both a weapon against his will and a person hellbent on survival at all costs, and a guy who, under kinder circumstances, might have been a decent if quite a bit eccentric dude. And that’s really hard! I often worry I’ve gone and made him too soft and that I need to focus more on him behaving like a violent toddler but I always soothe myself by remembering that Capcom didn’t exactly flesh him out which is both deeply frustrating but also leaves room for almost endless possibilities.

And hngggg loving on my original characters is like, so incredibly validating for me thank you <3 I have spent a long time thinking about those two before I even wrote a single word and I’m touched that you and others can tell and seem to enjoy it. I think I’ve mentioned it before but I’ve spent the last decade plus exclusively writing poetry, not prose, so I think sometimes that comes out with my descriptions and general style. It’s kind of a harder transition than I imagined but I’d like to think I’m getting better chapter by chapter lol.

Anyway, that’s enough about me. I love your stated inspiration for Heisenberg Principle – it totally comes through in your work and I absolutely agree. It’s actually quite similar to Chrysalis, at least in part. I, too, don’t think Ethan would have ever accepted the proposal. I say this with zero hate in my heart for the folks who were gunning for a team up DLC but I actually would have been furious if they’d done that and it hadn’t ended with Karl betraying him and a black screen with “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING” on it popping up lmao. Yes, Heisenberg is meant to play at your heartstrings because it’s clear he doesn’t want to be there and anyone can sympathize with that – but I thought it was pretty clear that the player was meant to notice the hypocrisy in his massive rant about how he’s not like his siblings or his “Mother” while he proceeds to commit unspeakable horrors. (I’ve seen some folks argue that it’s ‘not that bad’ because they’re corpses or whatever but like…. Come on, man.) I tend to view his interactions with Ethan as hugely manipulative. Karl’s a living weapon. He sees Ethan as another living weapon, one he can use to dispatch with his siblings, and Rose as THE living weapon to kill Miranda. Miranda has used Heisenberg as a tool his whole (?) life so why should he think any other human relationships are different.

Which I guess leads to Chrysalis. I was also hugely interested in exploring what that confrontation would have looked like if they both had someone to protect/love and more specifically if they were both fathers. My longtime Heisenmoots can tell you I’ve been singularly obsessed with this idea since like…. Day one lol. I am hoping that it will flesh out some of his canon interactions or at least make them more interesting while also perhaps maybe change the way he ultimately interacts with Mr. Ethan “Loses a Hand Biweekly” Winters. There’s a bit of personal inspiration in there, of course. Lottie is, for example, the daughter I would want if I had one: kinda feral, smart, authentic, a little weird. Kris is in part an exploration of my own chronic illness/disability struggles – many Heisenberg fics involve the reader/OC becoming a lord (which is COOL and AWESOME and I love all these characters, to be very clear) but I wanted to look at a story where that person doesn’t mesh well with the Cadou, where through no fault of their own they succumb to it like so many other nameless folks before. Not saying I was trying to be ~edgy~ but I also thought it would be fun to subvert the traditional “Karl and OC make a vessel” story which, again, I do not blame anyone for writing because it’s right there. And, yes, I’d be remiss if I didn’t say I just love this queer old man and I wanted him to have something, anything good in his life.

I feel like I’ve been rambling like a lunatic lol I could say so much more but I’m afraid I sound totally unhinged. Before I shut my trap, I’ll say that like many I felt there was a lot to be desired with how little backstory and motivation we were presented in this otherwise compelling game. There is something they’re trying to say about parenthood and something they’re trying to say about fairy tales and it all just… leads nowhere. No, RE has never been about satisfactory/deep character development but sheesh there really is the skeleton of something crazy good here. The whole of Chrysalis is leading up to that confrontation (I believe @vodkafolie called it a Dad Battle which I love lol) and I don’t want to spoil too much but it’s going to be both about that whole idea of ‘what if he actually did pick up what Ethan was trying to throw down’ but also the whole idea of love as madness and is there a point where in trying to preserve that love you can cause too much destruction and squeeze to hard and crush it like a bug in your palm.

Again thank you thank you thank you for your kindness, mwah right back ily2 <3

[ziracona]

I just want to say though thank you for writing ILM and all your other DBD fics. I don't think i can truly articulate just how spectacular the writing is and the impact they've had on me and countless others. My friends and i joke that ILM changed our brain chemistry, and the truth is that they're right.

The way you write about human emotions and experience even in an uncontested hellscape is unparalleled. The way the fear of pain and death never truly goes away, the knowledge that you know you're going to suffer but still hoping that maybe this time will be different - it is entirely what people are made up of. Of hope and determination and courage.

The moments of levity in a world made to cause the utmost of despair. The care and love, and how persistence can win out.

I also adore how you unabashedly show the killers how they are. They're human - the good ones still have their flaws. Susie is bratty, Joey indecisive, Philip self loathing. On the flip side horrible people can have desirable/good traits. The doctor is genius, the trapper unrelenting, the nightmare (fuck you freddy) creative.

The way the core facets of their personality stay the same no matter what is something so many people (myself included) can struggle with - you may want a character to act a certain way for the plot, but that is not how the character would act. The balancing act of telling a story that you want to portray vs the reality of characters being utmost true to themselves is a harsh one, but one you seamlessly pull off.

How you do things - the prose, the plot, the insights.. it really is like a movie. The emotional high and lows, dealing with such fantastical elements yet remaining so realistic, entrenching your reader so it feels like they are almost living in the characters skin, experiencing what they are. It's incredible dude. It's really, really fucking incredible.

I've only recently gotten back into playing DBD after like a 3 year break from the game, but i still use ILM as canon in my head. I think about how the new characters would fit in there, the dynamics, the jokes - Leon clinging to Tapp as a Familiar Figure (Older Cop), Vittorio depending on Adam to translate for him because while traversing the fog has taught him many things it has not granted him modern language proficiency and Adam is the only one who knows Latin, Feng getting to have a Jane Romero moment with Yun-Jin and Trickster (imagine Justin Timberblake killing you).

Or alternatively their grim faces at the news of certain peoples disappearance knowing that statistically it'll probably be okay - but fuck man, what if it's not? (Felix, Haddie, Mikaela, Zarina, and Nicolas Goddamn Cage would definitely be reported missing. I think the joke 'Nicolas Cage got taken by the entity' conspiracy theory unknowingly being 100% right is hilarious.)

This fic lives in my head rent free and has done so for years, and i cannot thank you enough for writing it. Sorry this is so long, i just really, really appreciate everything you've written and done.

So so extraordinarily sweet of you to say! I don’t know how to respond, except to say it means so much to me you feel that way and joke about it with your friends.

I’m deeply proud of that fic and my others and how they turned out, and that people found them meaningful. I’m a writer, so it’s always good to hear the works was, well, good. Well done. But it means even more to know they meant something to someone.

Also, ‘imagine Justin Timberlake killing you’ shot me like a lame horse absolutely losing it at the metaphor. 🤣 The survivors getting the experience Legion got running into Jane the first time (or, the ones from late enough to know him. Imagine being killed by Justin Timberlake while your best friend goes ‘Who?!??? That guy’s famous???’)

[haljathefangirlcat]

I don't want to add all of this under the post I took this pic from, because I'm going to get nitpicky and long-winded and it would probably get really annoying for OP... and also because this is the "are you saying we piss on the poor" website, so someone would inevitably think I'm hating on either OP or Mary Reufle. Which I'm not, btw. I think the passage above says something really beautiful and tragic about humanity, and I'm thankful to OP for posting it, otherwise I might have never read it.

But it does remind me of a stupid pet peeve I've been trying to ignore since people on Tumblr started debating whether asexual sailors would be safe from the lure of sirens and other people started replying that, hey! Sirens in Greek mythology, especially the Odyssey, don't lure sailors by offering sex! They lure them by offering them what they desire! Which might be sex for some, but might be just some really great pasta for others!

... again, to avoid another obvious "we piss on the poor" moment: no, I don't actually have anything serious against jokes, thought exercises, and stories in that vein. Ace people belong in fun fantasy and/or mythology-inspired stories and story ideas as much as everyone else. And I'm well-aware you don't need my permission to write about a sailor saving their entire crew by being totally indifferent to sex or almost dooming them because some weird lady on a rock in the middle of the sea was loudly singing about being desperate to share cool frog facts with someone. Hell, I'd probably read both.

But anyway, the pet peeve I was talking about before going on that tangent is that the sirens do sing Odysseus' story to Odysseus, and it just annoys me so much, seeing people ignoring the fact that that's actually a thing that happens. Like, this is from Book XII:

"[...] the Sirens failed not to note the swift ship as it drew near, and they raised their clear-toned song: “‘Come hither, as thou farest, renowned Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans; [185] stay thy ship that thou mayest listen to the voice of us two. For never yet has any man rowed past this isle in his black ship until he has heard the sweet voice from our lips. Nay, he has joy of it, and goes his way a wiser man. For we know all the toils that in wide Troy [190] the Argives and Trojans endured through the will of the gods, and we know all things that come to pass upon the fruitful earth.’"

... yes, this translation is taken from Perseus and is, unfortunately, in prose. Give me a break, it's not easy to find good poetic translations of the Odyssey posted for free online when I'm not even a native English speaker and to me "Odyssey translation" means "Rosa Calzecchi Onesti's translation from the '60s." The point is, the sirens try to lure Odysseus (and would definitely succeed, if not for the ropes-and-wax trick) by telling him that they know everything, including all that has happened to Odysseus himself and everyone else who suffered through the war of Troy.

And yeah, you could argue that the main draw for Odysseus (his greatest desire, to tie it all back to mythological shitposting) is knowledge itself, because he is that kind of guy. But the sirens don't give any details on their knowledge of all that is presently happening "upon the fruitful earth." They do, however, give details on their knowledge of the past -- specifically stating they know Odysseus' past. The same man who, if you remember, can't take Demodocus singing about a couple of episodes from the war of Troy without needing to hide his face due to being completely overcome by tears, yet has a piece of meat from his own plate brought to Demodocus as a show of respect and gratitude for his singing. Unlike his own wife, Penelope, who when hearing the aoidos Phemius singing about the same war back in Ithaca, asks him to change the subject to something less painful...

It's just. It's so painful and complex and wonderful and it makes me want to tear my hair out every time I think about it. And nobody ever remembers it when someone brings up the sirens and specifically the ones from the Odyssey! *screams*

Btw, now that I've had my nice little rant, please do me a favor and listen to the song Le Sirene by Vinicio Capossela. Because this Italian singer and composer? He gets it.

Here's a rough translation of the lyrics:

The sirens

Tell you about yourself

What you were

As if it were forever

The sirens

Have no tail nor feathers

They only sing about you

The man of yesterday

The man you were, two steps from the sky

All your life before you

All your life as a whole

They say, stop here

The sirens

Assault you at night

Created by the night

They kept all the faces you loved and now

The sirens have them

They sing them to you in a chorus

And you're not alone anymore

They know everything about you

And the best of you

It's a song of sirens

And you hear it in the regret

Of what you lacked

What you glimpsed and won't have

They give it to you

Only in song

They sing to you of how you came from nothing

And nothing you will be

The sirens are a night of beer

And the dawn won't come anymore

They're street ghosts coming in in gusts

They have the voices of sirens

Fill your ears with wax

To not hear them when it's evening

To stay firm

Tied to your routine

But if you listen to the sirens

You won't come home

Because home is

Where they sing about you

Listen to the sirens

They won't stop their singing

In the endless wake, they sing

All your life

Who you were, who you were, who you were

Who you were, who you were, who you are

Mnemosyne

Why go on until old age

Until you feel ill?

It's all already here

Stop here

You don't have anywhere to go anymore

The sirens

Don't sing the future

They give you what has been

But time isn't kind

And if you stop and listen to them

You'll let yourself die

Because the singing is neverending

And it's full of deceit

And takes your life from you

As it sings it

... also, if you know Italian or you don't mind running lyrics through an online translator (not Google Translate, pls, they don't deserve to be butchered like that) or you're just looking for new music to listen to, do yourself a favor and go listen to Capossela's other Odyssey-inspired songs from the album Marinai, Profeti e Balene. They are:

La lancia del Pelide (The spear of Pelides, and yeah, this one is actually about the Iliad)

Le Pleiadi (The Pleiades, from the POVs of Odysseus and Penelope, and a much deeper and more fascinating take on their relationship than either "Odysseus is a jerk who doesn't care about her because he has sex with other women" or "he's cool, she's cool, they're a cool power couple" could ever hope to be -- even though I do love the latter a lot, admittedly)

Aedo (Aoidos, set in the aftermath of Odysseus' killing of the suitors)

Calipso (Calypso)

Dimmi Tiresia (Tell me, Tiresias, set in Book XI, when Odysseus summons the spirit of the dead seer and receives a prophecy from him)

Nostos (Actually about the tale of Ulysses' final "mad flight" and death in the Divine Comedy, Inferno, Canto XXVI -- yes, you need to listen to this one, too)

... okay, yes, this post did turn into Vinicio Capossela shilling. I swear it wasn't the initial intention, it just happened. But you know what? I don't even care because most of the songs that make Tumblr users go "OMG THIS MAKES ME FEEL SOO UNHINGED 😭 TOTALLY FERAL 😭😭 WHY DOES IT GO SO HARD 😭😭😭" don't go even half as unnecessarily hard as the lyrics to Aedo and Nostos. So, yeah. You can thank me after lying on the floor like "head full. way too many thoughts" for an hour or two.

[metalsiren-a]

Hello. I have stumbled upon your blog just yesterday and I’m already mesmerized by how you characterize your muse! I’m also in love with your writing and would like to ask if you have any writing tips that you can give to those who would like to start writing in rp or in general! Thank you very much and have a pleasant day ahead and keep safe!

SEND 👏 ME 👏 ANON 👏 QUESTIONS . // accepting

oh man thank you so much for the sweet words! i'm glad you're enjoying sawyer and my characterization for her! it's been fun playing a typical soft character for once so this is kind of new to me lol. happy to hear it's translating. ❤️

when it comes to writing in general, i really lean into body language because i feel like you can really see the image you're reading about that way. i put a lot of time into how i think someone would react to certain things in a way that's realistic, in a way that shows flaws or strengths in my muse's understanding of situations. i also am super conscious of dialogue, again bc i find myself viewing what i'm writing almost like it's an episode of a tv show. everyone is different, though. some people love surrealism in words, some people love being flowery and purple-prosey.

so, i think my biggest advise is to try different types of dialog, different types of writing and see what comes to you naturally. because i tried to do purple-prose and it was not my thing hahha. but i'm sure people try to write how i like to and it isn't theirs. it's all individual.

also don't take it too seriously or try to be someone else, which is corny and like 'okay charlie, duh' but it can be really easy to fall into that, especially in the rpc.

i have no idea if this answered your question or not lmfao but thanks for asking!!!

[dourpeep]

IT WAS 2AM WHEN I SENT THAT SO I HELD BACK MY SIMPING FOR COLLEGE ALBEDO A LITTLE. tried not to send all my brainrot so I didn't just send a wall of text into your inbox LOL. Some others I thought of were:

- Mona giving astrology forecasts and compatibility readings in this au and Albedo may have asked her about the two of you

- Going to botanical gardens or museums with Albedo but for some reason it feels like a date even when it didn't intent to be. You tug on his sleeve now and then when you see something he might be interested in or even when it's something that excites you, and Albedo can't help but have a soft look in his eyes that he can share this moment with you! Somehow it results in the two of you holding hands - just so neither of you stray from each other of course - and eventually, intertwined fingers. You hear someone say that the two of you seem like a cute couple and you know Albedo heard it too, but neither of you say anything. You feel his hand squeeze yours a little tighter and respond in kind. The two of you are too embarrassed to look at each other but can't help the smiles on your faces.

- Lending Albedo some of your favourite books for pleasure reading and you've left tiny tabs on lines that you like. Perhaps this is before Albedo realizes his feelings so when he reads particularly romantic lines, he wonders if this is how he feels about you. Or did you mark these pages because you feel this way about someone? His stomach is in knots to the thought that you may be intrested in someone that isn't him and he settles for it just being prose.

WHAT YOU WROTE WAS SO CUTE AAA. THANK YOU FOR SIMPING FOR COLLEGE BEDO WITH ME!!

Tugging his hand and not letting go omg . . . you tend to just intertwine pinkies or play with his fingers absent-mindedly that Albedo becomes so accustomed to it so he starts to offer you his hands without a second thought.

WAIT. I gasped at Albedo being a cuddler. He's a little delirious when he first wakes up but you're so comfy that he hugs you a little tighter, asking if you've slept well. You try to reply while worrying about whether or not he can feel your heart thrumming in your chest.

What if Klee is staying with Albedo one night and the three of you fall asleep cuddled up together. Alice comes back early in the morning before any of you are awake and takes a picture. She sends it to Albedo later and he sets it as his phone's wallpaper.

Albedo staring at your lips winded me, thank you.

YES TO THE SWEATERS. I bet Albedo would have the softest and coziest sweaters too! Imagine it being a little cold out and you see Albedo across campus so you bound over to him and give him a hug. You nuzzle into him and mumble out a little 'hello' and say he's warm. You feel his laugh rumble through his chest while he greets you back, wrapping his arms around you

And I LOVE ALL YOUR HEADCANONS! I believe I found your blog around the time you posted Albedo's snort headcanon and it was too much for my heart!! I held tight to that headcanon and never let go lol. I also thought the science + college headcanons you had of him were really nice despite not being necessarily romantic!

Side note: I looked up that lobster fact and that's so cool!!

The Lobster Fact(tm) is my go-to ice breaker and it always fails. I'd imagine it's normally the same w/ Bedo OTL so sad...not many wish to know about potential lobster immortality.

I'm glad that you love the headcanons though!! I enjoy writing for Albedo so so much as you can tell ehe

That being said--if it makes you more comfy to send stuff in a few bursts of asks, I don't mind :DD I'll answer them as usual nodnod

OKIE DOKIE

-

"...Mona, yes?"

"Ah, I was expecting you to come around sooner or later, Kreideprinz."

Really, Albedo didn't mean to stumble upon the Astronomy major, but for some reason the thought of you has been on his mind and the campus' observatory just so happened to be on the way. With the meager hope that...maybe he'd find some sort of answer (in what, he wasn't really sure himself), there she was.

Luckily, she knew just what he was there for.

The moment that she twirls her hand with a wave, telling him that there isn't anything to worry about, the apprehension creeping within his chest at the thought of seeing you next-

disappeared.

It's not often that he turns to less orthodox methods, but he wouldn't lie. Knowing that--at least in Mona's opinion (which tended to be correct, anyway)--the two of you were undoubtly compatible? Something about how your constellations were intertwined...

In fact, Albedo turns a little theory around in his mind. Though based in old folktales, the idea that you gravitate towards those who are made of the very same stardust as yourself, suddenly made sense.

Or, perhaps he was just being hopeful.

-

Little does he know that you most definitely asked Mona about the same thing earlier that day.

-

AHHHHH BUT OF COURSE-

Any of those kinds of places--Botanical Gardens, Art Museums, Aquariums, Zoos, Museums in general--Any place where you're able to utterly lose yourself in your surroundings and look around in awe, really, are your go-to date outing destination!

Usually, it's just the two of you, maybe with Sucrose or Timaeus if it's for a particular class, as well as the occasional Klee in tow whenever Alice is busy with work.

But in this case, fingers interlocked, it's just the two of you on a impromptu trip to the art museum downtown after seeing a promotional banner about a new exhibit. Once inside, you rush along, Albedo trailing close behind with a light squeeze of your hand. The large area used for temporary exhibits isn't far from the entrance, so it's not long until you skid to a stop.

All along the walls are incredibly detailed oil paintings, the thin layered strokes glistening in the light. Albedo takes a moment to whisper to you about how oil paint works.

Due to the thinness of the paint and it's transparency, light passes through every carefully placed stroke, allowing for a unique sort of depth that isn't achievable with other painting media. You smile, the artificial light of the art exhibit making your features glow and Albedo can't help but wonder if you are like those paintings.

So complex, so carefully created in an image perfected with time. Your eyes search his and you say his name and Albedo clears his throat when he realizes he's been staring.

"Do you like this one?"

Ah, you must've assumed he took a liking to this particular painting.

His eyes shift back to it, taking in the sight of the balance of color, the composition, then back to you. He only stares a second longer before nodding.

Whether or not you realize the view he likes is you is something that he dwells on as you both make your way to the next painting.

-

If you had a penny for every time that someone comments on the way you compliment each other, you'd probably be able to pay off your tuition for next semester.

Okay, perhaps not, but the idea still stands.

You're only just at the end of the art exhibit when the security guard wishes the two of you a lovely date. Something about how young love is something to be treasured, something about how the two of you already seem so natural and comfortable in each other's presence.

Before you can mumble out an explanation, Albedo just squeezes your hand, gentle as always, and smiles.

It's a compliment, right? For someone to see how close you are, even if you really are just friends, is a good thing.

Ignoring the warmth that spreads over your cheeks, you smile and turn your head away shyly. Squeezing his hand back, the thought of what it'd be like if you were together crosses your mind.

-

Just as you lend books to him, he lends books to you. Surprisingly, this time it just so happens to be a poetry book--something that you expressed interest in a week ago but ended up not getting.

Within, he's left colorful notes with his neat, slanted writing.

Short discussions (presumably questions to himself) of what the poet must've been thinking, different possible scenarios, are peppered throughout the book. But one just so happens to catch your eye. Rather than a question, it's a statement. Simple, short, and...sweet.

'You carry the aura of the stars.'

The little yellow sticky note pasted beneath a love poem to the night sky stands out. Suppressing a flutter in your chest, you continue reading through the poem book with a few giggles at Albedo's musings until you find a note with most of the words crossed out.

It's entirely unlike him, the way that the dark ink scribbled over the words, making them illegible.

But at the bottom was a continued attempt--one you presume he was satisfied with by the way it lay pristine on the colorful paper.

'You look. I fail to speak.

Your mind, so brilliant as it is I wish to see behind To further appreciate the one I love.

I can only hope one day you shall let me in, So for now I wait patiently by your side.'

Who could he have written this for? You can't help but stare at the poetic attempt, knowing full well that Albedo seldom does something without meaning.

The book closes and you tuck it back on the shelf to ask about later.

-

AAAAA YESYESYESYES I LOVE THAT CUDDLE PILE W/ ALBEDO AND KLEE

Even though Albedo's a grade A student and certified genius (he's adamant in his denial, shaking his head and mumbling about how he just studies hard), he's not entirely a stickler for rules.

Well, that is, Aunt Alice's suggestion that Klee goes to bed by 9.

Instead, the three of you settle in the common room of Albedo's place in a bundle of pillows and blankets at the demands of a pillow fort.

The tv blinks on accompanied by the near silent click of the remote.

"What should we watch?"

Klee always ends up picking the movie. This time, she wants Alice in Wonderland, commenting on how the bunny is like her best friend Dodoco and the blonde girl on screen is named after mommy. Albedo doesn't bother correcting her, even though he knows quite well that dear, sweet Dodoco is a chinchilla.

Between sips of juice and a few mouthfuls of popcorn, the three of you fall asleep, Klee curled up besides you and Albedo's arm draped over you both.

Even when the sun is up in the sky, you sleep peacefully.

So, naturally, Aunt Alice has a spare key just in case something like this happens.

Immediately she's met with the sweetest view--her two kids (she's practically adopted Albedo as her own at this point) and--

Hiding a cheeky smile behind her hand, Alice can't help but sneak a little closer when she spies the way that you and Albedo somehow gravitated closer, his face buried in your hair and yours resting against his collar. Wedged between you with tousled hair, Klee snoozes peacefully.

She snaps a picture, followed by another, and another, and a fourth for good measures before meandering into the kitchen to prep something for breakfast.

Might as well let her three favorite people enjoy the comfort of sleep for a little longer...

You wake up the moment that Klee wiggles her way out of the blankets, nuzzling against the warmth radiating under your cheek.

Nice and cozy. Smells nice...wait.

Eyes fluttering open, you're met with a familiar birthmark and the nearly gone scent of Albedo's cologne.

You nearly pull away until the arm, now wrapped around your waist, pulls you closer accompanied by a satisfied sigh. Ah. You shut your eyes tight when you realize that Albedo's going to be asleep for at least another thirty minutes, resigning to your fate gladly.

Of course, Alice takes the opportunity to snap a few more pictures when you've finally fallen back asleep.

-

YES ALSO ALSO

Speaking of Albedo and sweaters and warm and also the just mentioned cologne. A little fun tidbit--not only are you familiar with the scent of his cologne because he wears it often, but it (in this au) is actually one that you picked out some time back. You probably were at the store together smelling some of the perfumes when you came across one that you were pleasantly surprised by.

Specifically, something that's lightly floral, a little warm but sweet with a hint of earthiness.

The pros? It fits Albedo perfectly! It also kinda sticks well and his place faintly smells of it.

The cons?? Well...you're embarrassed to say that hugging Albedo tends to drag on a little longer than anticipated because it's just such a comforting scent-

Not because you associate it with Albedo or anything-

Ehe

Man I really went to town again, didn't I?? Well, I'm glad that you enjoy my headcanons :DDD Albedo just seems like such a sweet person??? Like endearing in a way that just is...him. If that makes sense.

Brain go brrrrrr

I'll admit that my favorite headcanons for Bedo are mundane and domestic ones though! Like these! Just the little moments where there's nothing really going on except for him and you and ahhhh yesyesyes

Okay that's all-

[bowieandqueen11]

Headache / Jareth Headcanons

Request: hi I hope your having a good day can I request a Jareth x reader where Jareth is really tired from work in the Labyrinth and he gets a headache and the reader helps him out thanks so much

Of course lovely, as someone who used to get a lot of headaches I felt this aha I hope this is okay! <3

Jareth always gives his 100%, no matter what he does. When he first started courting you, all of himself went into writing you beautiful prose, setting up picnics under the stars and flying you over the most beautiful landscapes until your head is swept away by him. When he proposed to you, the goblins were still cleaning up the golden confetti and scraps of shimmering silver streamers that lay crinkles on the paved grounds of the castle, the whole night sky full of fireworks and festivities that had left you breathless.

The only problem with that - the flip side, is that he also gives 100% of himself to his work too. He wants the Underground to run smoothly, he wants the Labyrinth to run smoothly, precisely, like clockwork, the castle to be warm and grand and charming and everything you had ever wanted. He spent every second of every day, all his energy, his time, his thought, his love into making this place perfect for you.

He would do anything for the love of his life - for the person who made him smile with every whispering thought of your face that floated through his head. The one person with a grip on his heart, that sent shivers through his body as if you alighted his very soul.

So he works hard. Sometimes, too hard, and too much. Yet he never wants to worry you, so he buries it all deep down inside.

You know there’s a problem, one blistering and homely Autumn afternoon. You grimace as you hear the throne room doors slam open, and two pounding riding boots echo down the wide cobbled hallway. You put down your rolling pin, dusting off the bit of dough still stuck to the edges of your fingernails by rubbing it off on your apron. You plaster on a smile as you see a shadow flit over the stone arch entryway to the dungeon-like room, until you feel him hover behind you and press a kiss to the back of your head.

What you don’t fully notice, though, is the way his body slightly falls against your own, slipping for a moment as he allows his weight to rest against your back until you feel his hair tickle the nape of your neck.

You spin, pulling him tighter against your hip as you wrap your filthy hands gingerly around the his waist. You know there’s definitely something wrong though when he refuses to sway with you to your humming.

Even when you crinkle your eyes and pretend to throw a spot of flour on the tip of nose, he only sighs and takes a step back. You can hear him sneeze as he leaves, murmuring behind his back: ‘I’m sorry, my starlight. I just need to be alone for a while. Please, don’t worry about me, and I’m sorry, I know I promised to help you bake all the pies for our banquet tomorrow night.’

You can hear a faraway hoot as he transforms into an owl and flies off into the clouds outside the lattice window overlooking the herb garden.

Saying you were heartbroken would be an understatement, but you trusted your husband and respected him enough to give him the space he needs without hesitation.

Instead, you try to take your mind off worrying by going for a walk down by the Bog of Eternal Stench, but the breeze just felt a tad too shivery against your skin, the path just an inch too lonely without his hand to hold underneath the swirling stars. You try, instead, to go into the throne room, planning which silk ornaments and tulle to hang from the glimmering chandeliers for your anniversary ball next month, but the billowing halls just feel so empty without him there trying to distract you by leaning into you and whispering sweet nothings and kisses into the tip of your ear.

Eventually, you just snap and bribe one of the goblins into telling you where he’s run off to. It turns out, the goblin had seen Jareth slam into your bedroom window a couple of hours ago.

And that’s where you find him, lying in the dark and near naked in the chamber. There’s only the low flicker of a sole melting candle resting by his small vials and jars of glitter from the vanity table to cast shadows over the flumped form of your husband. His head is buried under your pillow, hands reached out over onto your side of the bed as he snoozed on top of the maroon silk sheets.

You gently slide on top of them, curling your feet under your knees as they hit his side. He twitches, fingers reaching out through his dreams to gently dance up your calf until they rest lankily on your knee. You begin to properly wake him up properly as you hitch yourself over his back, knees straddling his lower hips and hands rubbing against his back.

‘My love, if you’re not feeling well I want you to tell me, not suffer through it alone.’

He can only groan sadly and muffled in reply, still slightly drowsy and head swimming as he begins to whisper against the sheets.

You can barely see that his lips are moving until you dip your head towards his chest, finally making out that he’s just repeating ‘I love you, I love you’ over and over again.

He thumps himself over until he’s shuffled his head into your lap, pushing you down onto the pillows. His head spreads like gold dust onto your legs as he nestles into you. You begin rubbing his temples, knowing the tell-tale signs of his headache, as he just glances up at you, unblinking, with the most heartbreakingly love-struck look swirling in his eyes.

Sometimes you reach over to the nightstand and pick up some tubes of sweet-smelling rose gels to rub into his skin.

Or, you’ll get up to rub a cold towel on your husband’s head, or to try and get him to drink some iced water, but he always starts whining like a puppy and holding his hands out to bring you back to him.

Be ready for a night of him being groany and stubbornly clingy.

Yet, by the end of it, the two of you end up with tangled limbs and heads resting against hearts underneath a mountain of blankets and the promising dawn of a new wonderous day begins to rise over the walls of the Labyrinth.

[glassheartjukebox]

love letters

feat. ushijima

word count: 1.3k

“listen listen to my heart

that i only wanted you to know” - love letter

a/n: no content warnings, just pure fluff ! also a reminder that reblogs really help ! thank you guys sm for reading :D

the letters started about three months ago. you hesitate to call them “love” letters. “love” letters would indicate some sort of romantic prose, frilly stationary, and sweet declarations of love. the letters you receive are decidedly more... blunt.

the notes ranged from dry compliments such as “the school uniform suits you.” to borderline offensive remarks such as “did you do something different with your face? you look less tired today.” nonetheless, they had become part of your everyday routine. a blue sticky note with messy, slightly smudged ink and a blunt message.

after a month of notes, you decided to show them to your friends. as strange as the letters were, you never discarded them. they held a special place in your heart, often making you smile from the sheer absurdity. your friends immediately hounded you for not telling them about your “secret admirer” earlier. “that’s it, we need to catch him in the act,” your best friend declared, slamming her milk carton down on the lunch table. you rolled your eyes. “i don’t see the point,” you sighed, “he’ll tell me who he is when he’s ready.” this triggered a barrage of complaints about how boring that plan was.

to be fair, you had two reasons for allowing your admirer to stay anonymous. first and foremost, the chance of him being a creep was high. you had no desire to get your hopes up, thinking that he may be your dream man. secondly, you enjoyed receiving the little notes everyday. they��d become a part of your routine, something to look forward to. so, the notes continued to come uninterrupted for three more months.

the end of the semester was approaching, and break was right on the horizon. it dawned on you that this meant the end of your daily notes, which made you a little bit sad. the one you received this morning read, “i have very important business to attend to. it might be a little bit before you hear from me again. please wait for me.” that was the most he had ever written on a single post-it note. you rolled your eyes, secretly yearning for a way to wish him well on his endeavors.

after receiving the last note, you spent two days mourning the loss. there was nothing to break up the monotony now. you found yourself thumbing through the old notes he had gifted you. the most conventionally complimentary one by far had been “i like the shape of your lips, they suit your face very well”. it was the bare minimum, but it still had you blushing.

when friday, the third day without notes, arrived you were provided with a reprieve from your routine by the school. everyone was escorted out of class to attend a pep rally for volleyball interhigh qualifiers tournament. after all, volleyball was a big deal at shiratorizawa. both the men’s and women’s team stood tall on the school auditorium stage. the captain of the women’s team gave her speech first, but you found yourself zoning out and examining the men around you. your secret admirer was likely one of the fidgeting boys near you, looking hungrily at the women’s team as if they were pieces of meat. gross.

a deep voice broke you out of your reverie. the boy’s team captain had begun his speech. ushijima “ushiwaka” wakatoshi. the entire school knew who he was. the volleyball ace that repeatedly led the team to nationals. he had even been ranked in the top three aces in japan. ushijima stood well over six foot, with broad shoulders and a permanently stoic face. truth be told, he intimidated everyone. you’d had a few interactions with him, most of which happened at the beginning of the semester. a teacher asked you to tutor him for one english test. you met for three tutoring sessions, and during each he was quiet, polite, and apologetic for taking up your time. you found him much less imposing after seeing him hunched down in a desk too small for him, focusing on past tense verb translation.

after the rally had concluded, you were forced to return to class. shiratorizawa would begin their games at the interhigh tournament roughly two hours after school let out. you decided that maybe you would attend one or two of their matches if you could convince your friends to tag along. you honestly needed to get your mind off of the notes and your secret admirer.

you and a few of your friends were walking out of the school gates, preparing to visit some shops to bide the time before the game began when it hit you. you left your history textbook sitting in your desk. your history textbook that was full of notes crucial to the test you had on monday. you froze in your tracks and your friends turned, a little confused. “i have to go back, forgot my textbook,” you squeaked before taking off back towards the school building. you were screwed if the teacher had already left for the day and locked up the classroom.

grabbing the door handle, you were relieved to find it unlocked. what you were not relieved to find was a large figure bent over your desk and rummaging through your things.

“what are you doing?” you asked quietly, still in shock. consequently, the large figured managed the bump your desk in surprise, knocking it over and spilling the contents everywhere. you rushed to help clean it up on impulse. you were only able to recognize the figure in the dark classroom once you were up close. “ushijima?” you said incredulously. this entire situation was giving you a headache. he just nodded at you. you continue to haphazardly shove the contents of your desk back in when your hand landed on a small, blue sticky note. ushijima’s hand flew out to catch it but it was too late.

“my dearest y/n, the apple of my eye, the holder of my heart, fire of my loins, the most wonderful person i have ever laid my eyes on. you looked positively beautiful today, scrumptious even. how could anyone resist your charms? i find myself falling madly, deeply in love with you everyday. sincerely, with much love, your secret admirer.” the blocky handwriting juxtaposed the flowery diction of the note. furthermore, someone had drawn little red hearts around the perimeter of the letter. this was… very different than usual.

ushijima was also very different than usual. he was quickly losing his usual composure. his face was bright red and sweat gleaned on his brow. you looked up at him awestruck and confused.

“i’m sorry for the inconvenience,” his voice cracked, “but tendou had me write this love letter after he found out i had been sending a girl notes. he drew the hearts as well. i did not realize he was joking until after i had slipped it in your desk. i came back to retrieve it before you could see it. i’m sorry again.”

you were at a loss for words. “it was you sending the notes the whole time?” you stated the obvious. ushijima simply nodded.

“but why?” you asked, still struggling to process all of this. “i found you very attractive when you tutored me. i wanted to express my affection without drawing extra attention to you or pressuring you to return my feelings. sorry again.” he stood, preparing the walk out the room. your body moved on its own as you stood as well, grabbing his wrist.

“i didn’t know it was you,” you whispered, “but i’m really glad it was.” you leaned up to kiss his cheek, causing him to flush an even deeper shade of red.

ushijima stared back at you, a rare smile adorning his features. “now go, you’re going to be late for your own tournament,” you teased, still quite bashful over the entire situation.

“before i do,” he paused and dug through his bag, “would you want to come to the match wearing this tonight?” he held out his spare volleyball jacket, adorned with his name and number.

needless to say, you accepted. in that moment, you knew you’d be attending volleyball games than you expected.

©glassheartjukebox all written content belongs to this user. do not repost, modify, or copy content

[thefloorisbalaclava]

(Forgive me if I missed this in the masterlists but) our softest boy Frankie reacting to being proposed to? He wouldn’t understand why someone loved him that much and wanted forever with him???

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x Reader

Warnings: Some self-doubt but mostly fluff and making Frankie cry (happy tears).

A/N: Anon, I wanna let you know that I was in tears while thinking about this. It’s so sweet!

This is the ring I’m picturing (I just really love the ironwood)

[frankie masterlist][frankie masterlist pt. 2]

Frankie has never seen himself as the type of guy anyone would want to marry. Whether it was because of the issues he had in the past or just him--he never thought very highly of himself at all.

Until you came along, that is.

He smiles, he laughs, he enjoys life and it’s all thanks to you. You show him his worth. You make him feel like something even on the days when he feels like nothing. His bad days have not completely gone away, but they’re easier to deal with since you’ve been in his life. So much so that he can hardly imagine his life without you now.

It’s the same for you. He has changed your life for the better even if he doesn’t know it. You know he still has a small part of that self-doubt that creeps up at the worst times, but you are always there to remind him that you love him and nothing will ever change that.

He wonders how he got so lucky and you wonder how you got so lucky. Some days you look at him and the sun is shining on him a certain way and all you can think is “wow, he’s mine.” Every part of him--from those lovely brown curls, to those stunning brown eyes, to the strong nose that has become your favorite, to the soft, pouty lips that you can never kiss enough. His dimples, his tummy. Him. Every part of him has become something you can’t live without.

He doesn’t know you’ve been going to the jeweler. He doesn’t know that Santi has been helping you. He doesn’t know that you want to marry him.

The thing is, you both know that you don’t have to be married to be happy or complete. You two have been together long enough that people probably think you’re married already anyway, but there is something that makes you want to put a ring on that man’s finger. You want to see the look on his face as you get on one knee and tell him that you want to spend the rest of your life with him. He deserves it.

You look at the ring you had custom made for him and tears fill your eyes already. Santiago rubs your back and asks if you’re okay and you tell him you’re more than okay.

The day is here. The sun is just setting and there is a light breeze that blows.

You watch Frankie as he stands at the grill, drinking a beer and talking animatedly with Santiago as he flips burgers and hot dogs with the other hand without looking. He looks back at you and winks and you blow a kiss--heart pounding, the weight of the small box in your pocket feeling heavier by the minute.

Suddenly, he’s walking over with Santiago and you sit up straight.

“Burger. Medium well for my baby,” he says, handing you a plate. You take the plate from him then grab his hand so he doesn’t walk away.

“Frankie...”

“What’s wrong? You need more ketchup?” he asks. Santiago walks over and turns off the music and everyone else quiets down. They all know. “Babe, what’s going on?”

You stand and laugh nervously as you look around at everyone and then back at Frankie. You try your best not to cry, but as soon as you start talking the tears do as well.

“I love you,” you start.

“I love you too, baby.” Frankie smiles awkwardly then looks around at everyone.

“I’m not sure if you know this but you saved my life,” you tell him. “You always tell me how I saved yours but you have to know that my life hasn’t been the same since you walked into it all those years ago. And I’m grateful.” You take a deep breath. “I don’t know where I would be without you. There is no one else I wanna wake up next to every day, no one else I wanna get lost with...” He laughs at that with tears shining in his eyes.

“I love you, Francisco Morales, more than words can ever say. I want to be yours forever and I hope you want to be mine too.” You clear your throat and wipe the tears from your cheeks before getting on your knee and reaching into your pocket to pull out the small box. “Frankie baby...” He chuckles tearfully at your use of his favorite petname. “...will you marry me?”

He sniffles and shakes his head before letting out a sob that he tries to mask with his response. “Hell yeah,” he says with a smile and everyone cheers as you put the ring on his finger. He pulls you to your feet and kisses you, his tears mixing with yours. You both laugh tearfully as you pull away from the kiss. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you too.”

Later that night, Frankie is curled up against you staring at the ring on his finger. “Does this mean I take your last name too?” he asks.

“Do people do that? Is it possible?” you ask.

“I think I’ve heard of guys doing that. I’d take your name in a heartbeat,” he admits. “I never dreamed I’d be planning a wedding.”

“Me neither. Well...I actually already do have some ideas,” you confess.

“Oh, really?” He looks at you.

“Outdoors, for sure. At our favorite lake...and it’ll be in the evening so we can watch the sun set together like we always do. Then we can dance under the stars.”

“Some ideas, huh? Sounds like you have the entire wedding planned already,” he teases and you both laugh. “Sounds perfect to me.”

“I’d be fine just going to the court and signing a marriage license, honestly.”

“Me too but you know what? I kinda want a wedding,” he tells you. “I want to show you off. Show everyone just how lucky I am.”

“I think I’d be the one showing you off. Hey everyone! Look at the sexy man I’m marrying!” you yell and Frankie snorts, laughing against your neck. You have always loved the sound of his laugh. “I get to hear that for the rest of my life,” you sigh, tears filling your eyes again.

“I get you for the rest of my life,” he says, sniffling quietly. “I guess dreams really do come true even for guys like me.”

frankie taglist: @fakenoods @oldstuffnewstuff @the-bird-suit @lestrange2703 @findhimfives @windfallss @rach7 @surfsup666 @theghostwiththemost-babe @marshmallow–3 @mrschiltoncat @aplaceofpeace @josepedropascal @jeeperky @allthingsnarcos @laymegentlytorest @stanfordscrush @fangirlingss @nathan-bateman @darthdumbasss @helga1031 @master-obi-wan-kenboneme @heythere80sbaby @deserttastesbitter @dindjstarin @mandodjarinn @frankie-stein18 @funkylittlebisexuall @16boyfriends-and-me @marvelousmermaid @slugbuggie @ladyblogger-margie @queenbbarnes @dodgerandevans @terrormonster55 @queridopascal @hells-bells-x @allmahfeels @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @blackberries45 @darnitdraco @nemo-my-name-forevermore @dindjarinneedsahug @littlefairygirlx @wyn-dixie

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[starvels]

5, 16, 27, 38, 49 <3

hi sweet ev! thanks for asking 💖

answering asks from this fic writer's meme!

5. how long have you been writing?

i would say i've been writing since i was a kid ! i've always loved poems and prose and i made up two whole fantasy verses and started writing them and character designing when i was like, 10. so longer fiction has always appealed to me. i was the annoying kid that always wanted an essay in school instead of multiple choice, haha.

but yeah, for fandom: i started writing naruto fic when i was in my early teens too, that never saw the light of day. then i was in og spn fandom for a bit and marvel and a:tla and fma and then one direction and then all the way back to naruto and marvel to publish a shit ton of words. life's a circle is the answer!

16. easiest verse to write

mm interesting question!

i feel like i go through phases. for me at this moment, 1872 is real easy to slide into, but in general, we were meant as a verse is very easy to write (and does still have two sequels on my drive awaiting my attention span long enough to finish) and respiraro, si te videro, which uh, i guess its a secret but i have...already started writing...more for...dkjnbkd

27. best review you ever got

oooh difficult! i won't say reviews are best or worst type things, so here are two (relatively) recent ones that i hold p dear:

on rstv:

I'm losing my mind, this is so good. The way you wove the requested elements in, and gave them narrative purpose and emotional weight and coherence within the universe as written. The way you didn't handwave stuff away, physical or emotional, and let revelations and character development be messy and imperfect for both of them.

which felt rly good bc rstv is actually a much heavier plot than i usually do and it is such a complex one to boot, that i was worried about conveying everything well. really affirmed that i am capable of doing this level of intricacy in plot crafting, to me!

and someone in my dune discord server shared with me what they said to a friend of theirs abt my writing in general:

do you ever read something in a style you could probably never write in and just feel this feeling that's like half awe and half burning jealousy? like I this isn't even how I write, but I wish I could write like this, because I like it so much

which felt very uplifting and delightful, coming from a person who is as technically skilled and well read as they are. i've had some worries about how purple my prose is and how meandering my plots are and when i hear things that say my style in particular is enjoyable, it really makes me arthur_clench_fist.gif feel a lot!

38. do you reread your own stories?

oh absolutely, lol. i love what i write, it's catered to my niche interests. i have rstv open on my phone right now for pre-bed reading. and i do reread fics a lot in totality when i'm working on writing them, so i keep everything tidy and structured proper in my head, so i've been reading stop bath and devils in the canyon a lot lately.

will also say - i do read some of my own fics more than others. the ones i've written in massive marathon sprints of 10k a day (rstv, aws, wwm verse, wwwg, etc.) are in some ways more fun to read than ones i spent a long time writing, because they still feel a little mmmm shiny and i haven't worried so much about one line or another that it gives me stress to recall.

49. writing advice

identify what it is that you actually love about writing, and cultivate a relationship with the craft through that. hold onto the good feeling it inspires within you. don't worry so much about process or plot structure. take risks. take inspiration and organize it so you can actually look through it when you need inspiration. read people's work who write what you wanna write and how you wanna write and publish where you wanna write. find your community and be vocal in it; ask about your insecurities if you decide that improving on the craft is what you wanna do.

writing is a bit like carefully preparing meticulous slices of your heart for people to slurp down in a second. learn to meter out how much labor and expectation you want to extend to that cooking. don't take it to heart when people leave without a word to the chef. they still ate it.

find your community and be vocal in it!! nothing replaces a comforting voice in the middle of a vortex of self doubt, calling out to you to go the fuck to sleep because none of the demons roaming your work page at 4AM care about your delicate feelings.

[sopebubbles]

▶ Rules - post the top 5 works you're most proud of that you released this year (not necessarily most popular), your top 4 current WIPs that you're excited to release in the new year, your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year, your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year, and your number 1 favourite line you've written this year

▶ Tagged by: @btsrunmylife thank you <333

▶Tagging (not sure who’s done this, so feel free to ignore): @yonkimint @burningupp anyone else who would like to do this 💜

5 works I'm proud of (I only have five but here we go)

1. The Sea Without You- this au feels like my first born child. I'm always happy when I see people are reading it. I'm happy when people like anything I write but there's something about this au that just hits me differently. I'm very proud of it.

2. 21st century girl- with this one I felt like I really knew what I was doing most of the time. I loved the fact that so many people really connected with Yn. I think she's the Yn I'm most like, or that I want to be most like. I hope people will keep finding themselves in her.

3. Bulletproof Heart- this was a real rollercoaster of a fic and also in my real life. I found a great relationship bc of this au. I almost quit this blog and writing altogether bc of this au. I learned to write bc I love it and not for the notes bc of this au. It went on much longer and in a very different direction than I intended when I started, but I truly enjoyed the angst.

4. The Pact- I really think the pact is so different from my other work. It's so fluffy and cute. There are moments of angst but for the most part it's just sweet and I don't really know if it's my style. Idk if I'm really proud of it bc I know I rushed the ending but I guess I'm glad I got it done instead of just quitting it when I was ready to move on. Jin is still the only man ever tho.

5. Resolutions - this really shouldn't be on the list but I only have five works so... anyway I actually wrote it on NYE in 2020 and just adapted it for BTS this year so someone would read it 👀 It may be my favorite piece of prose I've ever written tho, and it remains my only one shot.

Top 4 Current Wips

I won't say to much about my works in progress because 1. I can only really work on one thing at a time or I'll never actually finish anything and 2. I don't want to feel locked into doing something bc I talked about it here. My current 1 work in progress is a $%^&* pregnancy au. It's an angsty little beast and a lot of it is written. I hope you'll enjoy it.

Top 3 biggest improvements

1. I think trusting in my own narrative decision making has been a big area of growth for me this year. I used to worry a lot about if people would like the choices I made for characters, if it was too much angst or too much smut. Recently I've learned that it's more important for me to write the kind of story I want to tell and people will like it or not but mostly they take it as it is and if they have a reaction, good or bad, that makes me happy. Maybe it's a bit perverse but I love pulling an emotional reaction from my readers. I love making you laugh and cry in the same chapter and when I hear you've done that I feel very good about my work.

2. I've been working on writing for my own pleasure rather than for the notes. They still mean a lot to me, but if they don't get that high it doesn't bother me so much.

3. I'm pretty proud of how much my blog has grown. From starting in late may to the end of the year gaining over 600 followers has felt amazing.

Top 2 resolutions

1. Let's call them goals? I want to keep myself sane and keep writing in a way that feels good and enjoyable to me. I don't want to pressure myself too much to write bc people expect something from me.

2. That being said I would like to have an au for each member by the end of the year and then see where else we can go.

Number 1 favourite line I've written

"Because you're funny and cute and crazy in a way that I think is just wonderful" -Jin, The Pact (idk why that's my fave but it makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside)

[twstedbeauty]

Hiiiiii!! Can I pls request headcanons for Leona, Jamil, Cater, and Sebek with an s/o who likes to give them heartfelt love letters and homemade valentine-like cards?? (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

I love the pink rose aesthetic of your banner btw!! <3

AWWWWW THIS IS SO BLESSED I LOVE THIS Also thank you so much lovely~!!! <3

Leona Kingscholar 

Leona strikes me as the kind of guy that isn’t very good at expressing his emotions. Like, at all. He terrible at it. He can say what he thinks any time of the day, but how he feels? Gross. 

So having someone who can do it seemingly effortlessly and write them down so eloquently makes him a tad bit envious. Your words sound like poetry, the way you write about how you love him unconditionally and how much you think about him. 

Some part of his brain likes to tell him that he should have someone singing their praises about him like this, so it shouldn’t be such a big deal but it still feels...foreign to him. Love letters are the kind of thing he’d expect his brother to get, not him. 

He’s gonna be a tsundere about this. If you walk up to him and give him a letter, he’ll take it but say something like “What could you have possibly written down that you can’t say to my face, Herbivore?” He might smirk and ask if it’s something naughty. You’re free to smack him. 

But he’ll read it once he’s alone. He’ll open it carefully and read over every line of it, feeling a fluttering warmness beginning to spread throughout his chest as he took in your beautifully constructed prose. They were just words on a page, but he could hear your voice as he read them, feeling all the love and thoughtfulness that you had put into it. 

Sometimes, when he’s having a bad day, he’ll take one of your letters out and read over it again just to cheer himself up. 

Leona’s tsundereness really shows with the homemade cards though. If you give them to him, he’ll blush like there’s no tomorrow and gripe something about it being childish, but he’s not gonna turn it down. He has a special drawer in his room where he keeps all your letters and cards that you make for him and he treasures each one. 

Just don’t give the card to him in front of Ruggie. He’ll be ribbing Leona about it for weeks. 

Jamil Viper 

Jamil, like Leona, also doesn’t strike me as the type to express his emotions well. He’s definitely not one for lavish gestures of affection, so when you give him a letter or a card, he might find it a little embarrassing. 

Don’t worry though, it’s only because he’s not used to it. The more letters and cards you give to him, the more accustomed to it he’ll become. 

This poor boy spent all his life not getting any credit for anything, so to have someone pour out compliments and praises about him in a handwritten letter? He absolutely loves it. 

Like I said, he’s not good with lavish affections so he’s not sure what to do when you give it to him. What does he do? Just say thank you? Or does he give you something in return? Walk him through this, he doesn’t know how to relationship. 

The first time you give a card or a letter to him, he’s a bit caught off guard, but he takes it anyway and reads it in front of you. 

His heart absolutely melts. The softest of smiles graces his lips as he reads it to himself and when he’s done, he turns to gives you a kiss on the forehead and thanks you softly. It means the world to him that you would go out of your way to do something like this for him. 

He saves every single card and letter you give to him and keeps them in a little chest under his bed. After a particularly rough day, he’ll lay in his bed and read over them to cheer himself up. 

Needless to say, his day gets a little better if he gets a card or letter from you. 

Cater Diamond

Out of all the boys on this request, Cater is the only one who is a romantic at heart. He might find the notion of handwritten letters a bit old fashioned, but that’s what makes it all the more special!

So when you give him a love letter of your own, he gasps in delight and his whole face lights up like a Christmas tree. He’s so excited! He tears the letter open and reads over it, his eyes skimming fast across the page. 

As he takes in what you wrote, you’ll notice his face getting considerably softer and his smile getting warmer. His heart is fluttering in his chest and the blush on his face is getting stronger. 

When he finishes, he stands up and throws his arms around you, gushing about how much he loves it and how much he loves you. You’re just so sweet to him!

He absolutely ADORES the homemade cards. He finds them just so cute and adorable and he just has to coo over how cute you are every time you give him one!

You might even inspire him to start writing some love letters of his own to you! He’ll pour his whole heart out into it and his handwriting is just beautiful, so you’ll have that to look forward too. Plus, who doesn’t love making Valentine’s cards? 

Be careful though. There is a 85% chance that your work might end up on Magicam. He just can’t help himself. He HAS to post about how sweet you are!!

Sebek Zigvolt

Dear god, if you thought Jamil and Leona were bad with emotions, Sebek is like...ten times worse. 

Listen, this poor guy has been around for a long time. The only thing he’s been brought up to do is be a soldier and guard. He’s loud, abrasive and kind of obnoxious...no one really does things like this for him.

So, when you come up to him to give him a card or letter, Sebek just kinda...bluescreens for a second. He’ll just stand there, staring at it, with the biggest blush on his face. What in Seven’s name was this? Was this another human custom he’d have to familiarize himself with?

After a few moments, he’ll snap out of his thoughts and slowly take it from you. He has no idea what to do. He probably even forgets to say thank you. 

When he’s alone, he’ll open it and read what you wrote. He’ll feel himself getting even more flustered the more he reads. The things you wrote about him sounded like the most beautiful poetry. He might even tear up a bit. 

He saves them. Every single one. He has a whole wall in his room dedicated to the things that you make for him. 

Like Cater, he might try his hand at writing his own love letters or making homemade cards. They....aren’t as good as yours and the cards might come out a little crude, but it’s the thought that counts right? 

[pazii]

Ooh hello may I get a Genshin matchup as well?? I'm 18+ so I'd like a romantic matchup w one of the older men pls!!

Some things about myself:

I tend to come off as very social and friendly bc I'm too socially awkward to decline a conversation haha. I'm usually good at making small talk if the other person asks questions but I can't really come up w topics myself. The one exception is if they ask about my interests bc I will go on for literally hours (and on multiple tangents) if they don't stop me lmao

I've almost always got a smile on my face. I'm not the type to get angry or jealous easily, I'd most likely just be sad, and even then I'd never show it to anyone. It's like, I'm supposed to be the one supporting my friends, they can't see me like this

In extension to my last point: I hate being perceived as less than competent. I only accept failure when I'm alone. If someone's watching me I start to worry about my performance and tend to fuck up even more.

My memory for my day to day life is kinda terrible. It's not that I'm forgetful per se (if I focus on something I can certainly remember it), I just don't pay attention to the details of my daily life so if people ask me what I had for breakfast I wouldn't know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

In contrast, I have an extensive library of random trivia in my brain. Whether it be the properties of every element on the periodic table or the evolutionary relationship between animals and fungi or the reason why we have an asteroid belt. If you ask me anything about the natural world I'll probably have an answer.

My love language is quality time and physical touch

My hobbies are drawing, creative (prose) writing, and piano! Tho I wouldn't let anyone watch me drawing/writing/practicing

I love cats and really any living thing. I'm the person who would trap the spider and take it outside. This is prob a result of my biologist training lol, learning about living beings gave me an appreciation of all life

I like one on one time with my friends/loved ones. We could be going out on a fancy date or just chilling at home, as long as it's just the two of us. Large gatherings wear out my social battery much more quickly.

As for dislikes, I can only really think of food preferences lol. I hate onions and mushrooms (green onion is okay tho and garlic is absolutely delicious). If someone will eat my mushrooms for me while I tell them about the different fruiting bodies of fungi I will marry them sdjfsjfks

I hope this was enough info and wasn't too rambly!! Thank you in advance :D

Hello!! I apologize for the long wait and hope you like this!

I match you with...

Zhongli!

Zhongli always wants to get to know his beloved better so he tends to ask you a lotof questions about yourself

Which is how you both usually start conversations, the small talks you make he will extend them into a bigger conversation

Zhongli is an excellent listener so there would never be any boring conversations when he's here

He finds it absolutely adorable when you ramble on about your interests

He loves that you're always so cheerful with a sweet smile on your face but it always makes him worried since happy is the only emotion you're willing to show him

He loves every part of you and understand that humans experiences sadness,anger, all kinda of emotions

He is very understand when you tell him you're not comfortable with showing him

He is very patient and would still reassure you a lot that he's here for you and would do anything for you

He hates to know that you're hurting alone and not being alone to do anything

Zhongli has an amazing memory so don't worry, he will remember your day for you

He loves to hear all the small trivia you have memorized and finds your ability to remember them really amazing

He in turn will tell you little knowledge he has memorized over time as well

Zhongli loves spending time with you

Even of you both just sat in silence enjoying each other's company with a drink/ tea

He is very interested in your hobbies and will ask you about them

As mentioned before, he is very patient and understanding so he will always oblige your request and leave you alone when you wanted to be

He loves any loving touch and will definitely hold you in his warm embrace

Zhongli also appreciates all kinds of life

He loves animals and humans, any creature in this world honestly

They peak his interest and wouldn't mind having many conversations about them with you

The two of you loves playing with the dogs and cats around Liyue harbor

As for dates

Star gazing? Facy dinner date? Just a walk around Liyue harbor? Stay at home to enjoy each other's presence?

Sign him up!

Anything you'd like to do, he's down

As long as you two are together and having fun <3

He would definitely help you eat the food that you dislikes since he's not a very picky eater except for seafood

I can see you guys having a lot of bounding time while dinning together

Just many lovely conversations

[iero0]

Hi lovely!! Happy one year! How about 1 and 11 for Dear Stranger or a fic of your choice?

Thank you, my lovely @the-starryknight, both for the congrats and the ask!

1: What inspired you to write Dear Stranger this way?

Dear Stranger was a part of Cluefest and hence prompt based. When I read through the prompt to narrow them down to four or five to chose from then, I read the the prompts in depth and there was this sentence by wanderingeyre that really stood out to me:

"Draco is content running his apothecary shop in Knockturn Alley. If he has few friends left and spends most of his time alone, it's just punishment for the part he played in the war."

Then only comes the part with the anonymous love letters. Now, it sounds a bit lame to say "the prompt inspired me", but hear me out. To me, these two sentences instantly built the whole universe of Dear Stranger, both the characterisation and the social surroundings. Draco trying to make himself believe he doesn't need or deserve more than a quiet life with only very few people in it, a life between being alone, working too much, and trying to find joy in very small things while worrying about money is something that's quite the opposite of the Draco in the HP books and, in my HC, a very reasonable development for his character. His family's wealth is taken away, he gets teased instead of admired, and so he tries to hide and focus on the things he can control (in contrast to Narcissa who, first, stays in denial, especially about poverty).

And in comes something that Draco can't control and that's suddenly new and exciting for him. Someone is charming and fills his life with anecdotes other than brewing potions and Sunday luncheon with Mother, and in my head, the letters mean so much to him because he gets a meaningful glimpse of someone else's life, someone who's even interested in him.

I hoped that the way the prose and the letters alterate would show how much richer Draco's world gets with the influence of his Stranger and that words have actual, meaningful impact on his life, both his thoughts and his routines. Also, I absolutely do have a thing for epistolary, and I wrote several full epistolary stories together with my sweet @ladderofyears! Exchanging letters is something that feels both a bit old-fashioned (which I love) and intimate.

Also, loneliness, I think, is a recurring theme in my fics! In many of my Getting Together fics, everyday life looks pretty bleak and lonely for one or both of our boys.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

Honestly, there are a few thinks I like about this fic, but since I want to narrow it down to answer this question properly: it's imagineing what Harry sees in Draco. We get to hear some of it in his letters (which are ghastly written in the beginning, but turn a bit more wordy and elaborate in the course of the exchange (which I hope I conveyed xD)), how he sees someone who has obviously changed, and he likes that, partly, but he's also compassionate. He can see that Draco isn't complaining, but that he isn't really happy either. I made the line "Hope you had a reason to smile today" a recurring line in Harry's letter. I think it's very on the nose and a bit cheesy, but I thought that Harry really, truly wished that Draco, who had suffered through a lot, even from Harry's perspective, would have a way to move on and find a spot of happiness, even if it's just in the way of some proper self-care.

--Thanks, Starry, for making me think about this fic today!! I loved writing it, and I hope that these insights are a little interesting <3 (also, the other best part about this fic is this wonderful art by @fictional, commissioned by Emma <3)

Read Dear Stranger on AO3

[pseudofaux]

1/2 Pseu, the last couple Slings I rq’ed some dirty talk & MA’AM did u deliver. But I realized I never thanked/gave feedback like a dummy so here I am! They were so so SO good (fenrir esp & SIRIUS?! 😳 woof), pls dont doubt ur DT writing skills bc they were all so hot, /very/ in character (I could practically hear Kyles!) & beautifully written to boot. Ur prose has so much personality, it is such a joy to read <3 & I have def read those pieces. many. times. I just want to thank u & apologize for asking u 2 go out of ur comfort zone. When I get the chance I will def tip u for the trouble (& commission if im brave enough lol)

Thank you so, so much for this! I really appreciate hearing that the dirty talk worked for you, that’s the best. When other writers do that right it GETS ME FEELING, so knowing that might be true outward as well is!!! a lot and very cool! But if you are this nice to me I will CRY. 🥺💙💙💙 SO LET’S GET TO THE GOOD SH*T, I am so glad you asked for this because Faust is one of the best characters to get n a s t y with, the holier the man, the, uh... holier our holes? Something like that? ANYWAY:

CW: degrading language (”whore”, “slut”), sadism, some sacrilegious thinking  regarding Jesus’ crucifixion (this is quick and about related imagery, but I’m putting it in the warnings just in case), depravity in a church. If any of the stuff in the ask squicks you out, keep yourself safe and turn away. 💙

(Requests are open through May 1 if you would like to get one in, dear reader!)

“A whore in my chapel,” he muses. It’s so soft, his voice is so very soft, it makes the words feel funny in her head. She knows they are lashes but they feel like petals, and when her eyes close it is not to hide from the words but to shut out everything except his voice so she does not miss any others. She wants everything he has to say. She wants anything he has to give her. All the thorns of the crown, every scrape of the doubter’s spear slicing through the flesh of her belly. Simply knowing him—as though there were anything simple about it— has warped her. That’s why she stepped through the doors into the dim chapel, lit more by moonlight than the sparse candles at the altar.

He tilts his head as he considers her. She is just beyond the threshold and she is just deciding she should beg him to let her stay when he moves closer.

“Open,” he says, but he is pulling at her mouth with one gloved finger as he begins talking so she has no chance to obey on her own. She wants to! Why is he taking that from her? She leans forward as though it will help her anticipate his next request sooner.

She is not prepared at all for him to grab her by the chin or come so close. Her heart knows the joy of an entire flock of freed birds when she thinks he is going to kiss her. There has never been a time when she blinked so fast in her life—

He comes close enough for warmth, but not touch. He spits between her open lips. “Move that around with your tongue. Get the filth out of your sluttish mouth,” he tells her. She is beyond shocked but she does as he says. It should be revolting to have someone else’s saliva in her mouth like this, but she is so gone for him she doesn’t even want to swallow, wants to keep that piece of him mixing with her, safe and warm. When he takes a step back and lets go, she falls to her knees with her palms up like some kind of penitent. She doesn’t mean to. It just feels right.

She could be in a comfortable bed right now, instead of on the unswept floor of a chapel, all her worshipful inclination aimed away from the altar and toward a very dangerous man. Will her foolishness mean they find her in a ditch somewhere... Will they find her at all? Or will he send her back on unsteady feet with her own juice tickling her legs as it travels from her core to the ground? She can’t fathom what will seem most cruel to him, what he’s most likely to do.

That’s not really a part of her interest. She’s not sure she could explain the interest if she tried, but it is the full shape of her heart now, and directs her nighttime steps to him no matter what her brain tells her otherwise. If she knew where he was during the day, she would try to find him then, too. Her comfortable bed is nice but it does not make her blood sing like he does. The pain he gives, and his presence, those are things she has come to need.

And he fulfills those needs. He’s generous with pain and he is always there when he gives it to her. She nearly swoons to the floor thinking about it, and only the thought that she might lose out on time with him keeps her upright and dutifully swirling his spit in her mouth.

“Get up, imbecile,” he says, and he points further into the chapel! She is being invited even more inside! She could weep! “Lean back against that pew. You’re not even worthy of kneeling in this place.”

She’s not. Somewhere in her there is a heart that is kind and good, and a person who tries to do her best, but the moment she left the mansion to come here she was guided only by selfish lust. It’s what makes her stand up so fast. She doesn’t even know what he will do if she manages to please him... so far she has only experienced his sharpness, and it has worked to hook her as surely as a fish.

Her feet are moving but she is lost in an imagining that he is piercing the side of her mouth when he shouts “Swallow already!” at her, and it makes her jump. It also makes her so, so happy that he was paying so much attention. Every echo of his rage is like choir music. She swallows immediately. In her rush her throat betrays her and she feels like she will choke, but before she can stop herself she coughs and then keeps trying to clear her windpipe. His hand is on her upper arm and he shakes her like a rag doll. It does not help, but it feels like a dance.

Faust grits out “Get. Over there.” and she gets, still coughing. It is uncomfortable and her eyes are watering but she longs for him more than air and he let go of her arm when he pushed her toward the pews. So her steps are sad ones.

She puts her back and her hands onto the curve of the pew. It’s wide, smooth wood beneath her. The sturdiness brings her head down from the clouds in time to hear the slide of the book bundle he has kicked toward her, just in time to move her ankle out of the way. He laughs and mutters something she can’t hear. She tries very, very hard not to pout about it.

“I don’t have all night,” he says flatly. “Put your foot up and show your sin to me.”

It’s a scramble to comply-- should she hold up her skirt first or put a foot on the books and then raise the fabric?-- but her body just moves, eager to comply. This is why she’s here. As much as for him, she is in this chapel for what only he can do.

He rolls his eyes as she wads up her skirt in her hands. Her stockings can’t be clean after that time on the chapel floor, and there is no way her underwear is without a telltale patch of lust, not with the way all his power has been pooling between her legs since before she even touched the other side of the chapel doors. When he steps close she can actually feel a tiny but undeniable gush of arousal slipping out of her so easily it might as well be her self-control. It’s mortifying. She hopes he sees.

Then he is close, close enough for one of his hands to slip behind the leg that goes straight to the ground and stroke it, which makes her bite back a moan. She has to clench her teeth shut just to withstand the gentle contact without falling over. When he pulls her leg up, her knee rests beside his hip and she begins to shudder so hard she fears she will convulse.

“Stop that this instant,” he hisses, and his fingers dig into the back of her thigh so hard all that gently-stroked flesh is too stupid to feel the hurt right away. It comes to her quickly, though. She bites back another sound, something more vulnerable.

He watches her, then leans in beside her ear. “You put your foot on a stack of bibles in a church,” he whispers to her, every syllable touching his teeth the way she wishes he would touch her. “And you spread your legs like you think someone wants to see your mess.” He makes the most derisive, delicious noise, and her eyes roll so far back into her head it nearly hurts. More words, more words, please...

He takes her by the chin again, and when he lets go of her leg she knows she needs to keep it exactly where it was, no matter how precarious this makes her balance, while his hand comes up to slap her face. “You don’t tell me one wretched thing, slut,” he enunciates carefully. She did not even realize her thoughts had become words. She quickly tries to apologize and he slaps her other cheek. 

“Shut up,” he says, syrup sweet, and slides his hand back under her thigh. It’s the exact tone of a bully. She shuts up. She shudders, too, from the way it seeps into her and makes her warm all over.

He lets go of her chin and pulls the front of her underwear into his fist. He keeps pulling until the soft, well-laundered muslin digs at the back of her hips and her sex at the same time, right up against the tender flesh of her holes, and makes her yelp. He must have measured his strength exactly, she hears the snap of two threads but the fabric holds. He could rip it from her with ease. Why is he not doing that? He gives the muslin just a little slack, then pulls it even tighter and she feels like a marionette, all her limbs out of her own control. Were it not for her hands on the back of the pew, she would be a mess on the floor instead of a mess barely standing

Faust growls, “Be still, sinner-- and keep this leg up-- or I’ll make it so much worse.”

She keeps the leg up without his hand beneath it. She will never again doubt the existence of miracles.

He pulls the soaked fabric aside, pulls back his newly freed hand, and slaps her right on her slit without any preamble. The shock of the hit is gold and white-blue behind her eyes, and her sob is ugly, an animal’s sound in a place meant for prayerful people. He says nothing as she whimpers through the hurt of every little ripple of post-pain, the way the tingles stay focused on the flesh that took the hit. It feels like a scorch on both sides of her sex that she cannot escape; how appropriate that inescapable he put that feeling on her, in her.

Belatedly she realizes that she did stay still, and that calms her spirit, strokes her in time with his thumbs on the inside of each thigh. High like heaven. Soft as a dream. He may even be shushing her tenderly instead of telling her to be silent, but she is so delirious she cannot be sure. She can feel the way she is even more wet, because the slickness makes the burn better. Not in a healing way, in a way that clarifies the precious, god-given sharpness he provides. She is sinful and filthy and so far below worthy of his touch, but he does touch her, he talks to her and touches her, and when Faust does those things she feels very holy. There is a silence in her soul that makes it a little easier to ignore the way her body is screaming from pain and desperate want.

The slap hurts. It takes her a long time to come down from the pain and the heat. But when she is silent, he sneers and stops stroking her thighs, and then he does it again.